Never forget
by IcyKeys-Love
Summary: She would never forget him. His voice, his touch, his smell, his taste, his image. And neither would he. I mean, really, how could they? Graylu Week, day seven, Five senses


Mizu-chan- Awww... it's the last day of Graylu week... I don't want it to end... :/ Ah well, at least I finished this story just in the nick of time! :3 I hope you like it!

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><p>Five Senses<p>

Even after all those years, she remembered everything about him.

Even after they'd parted and he'd moved on with someone else.

Even after he'd moved away and she was left alone, with no one but her best friend Natsu, who had a girlfriend.

Even after Gray left her side, she remembered.

She remembered the sound of his voice. So smooth, so low, that voice that caused shivers to go down her spine, and it wasn't because of his Ice Magic. No, he had other magic as well, his own magic. His voice, that was part of it. That voice that could charm her, that could seduce her, that could persuade her. That voice that drove her mad when she couldn't hear it. That voice that caused her so much pain now. That voice that when he and his lover visits, causes her to leave the room in fear that she would sink down into the dark pits of despair. Oh, how she loved his sound.

She remembered his touch so well. The feel of his lips on hers, how they moved in perfect sync, how they'd ever so gently carved into her soul, lips so soft, yet hard enough to etch his name into her heart forever. She remembered how they would curl up next to each other at night, his warm skin pressing against hers, sending electric shocks that affected her even now. An accidental brush of a hand caused her face to heat up. A kiss made her high on his love. But now, after what had happened, a simple friendly hug made her want to scream in pain. Oh, how she loved his touch.

She remembered his smell. That intoxicating mix of mint, vanilla, and cinnamon that would make her want to kiss him. Hug him. Tell him that she loved him. That smell that made her want to spend every day with him, that smell that made her fall under his spell all over again. And again. And again. It was beautiful, it was only a small part of her lifeline. That part of the lifeline that had been ripped away. That smell, that smell had caused another woman to fall for him, and him to fall for her. That smell that had ripped a part of her heart out and left the scarred half for her. Oh, how she loved his smell.

She remembered his taste. That unique taste that only he had. That icy cold, sweet taste that reminded her of ice cream and berries. That taste that was so potent, that taste was her own special liquor. And once, it had only been available for Lucy. She would kiss his lips all day, just to get a fix of the heady taste. That taste that she would always remember, always. Nothing could recreate it, nothing could mimic it, and nothing could make her forget. That taste, sweeter than sugar, with more bite than whiskey, more addictive than nicotine. Oh, how she loved his taste.

Finally, she remembered his image. Clearer than the light of day. She would see him when she closed her eyes. She would see him while she slept. She saw him everywhere, and yet, he was nowhere close to her. That messy, raven black hair that she used to run her fingers through, that pale tan skin that he would constantly show off, that perfectly toned body that could get any girl to drool in need for him. And most of all, those beautiful, onyx blue eyes. Those eyes that sucked her in and captured her, those eyes that could see when something was wrong, those eyes that had been cast to the ground when he had left her. Oh, how she loved his image.

She would never forget.

Because she loved him.

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><p>Even after all those years, he remembered everything about her.<p>

Even after they'd parted and he'd moved on with someone else. Someone who he'd thought he'd love.

Even after he'd moved away and left her with her other friends.

Even after Gray left her side, he remembered.

He remembered her melodic singing. That sound that he had rarely heard. That angelic voice that had called to him, that voice that would cause his throat to go dry in a second. He remembered the sound of her light footsteps on the ground as she ran to him, her heels clicking on the stones. He remembered hearing her breathing on the first night he'd stayed with her. He remembered it, he remembered it so well. The way she called to him, the way she ran to him, the way she lulled him to sleep with her gentle, even breaths. Oh, how he missed her sound.

He remembered the way her skin felt so smooth under his hands as he embraced her. The way that she fit herself to his figure like a puzzle piece. How they went together so amazingly well. He remembered her lips against his. So soft. He remembered her hand holding his own, that dainty, pale, tender hand. The one that caressed his cheek when he had cried, the one that pulled him through the crowded streets of a carnival, the one that he'd held briefly before they'd parted ways. No one else had her feel. No one could ever send the same jolt through him every time they kissed. Oh, how he missed her touch.

He remembered her scent. Flowery, with an inky undertone that came from her love of writing. That smell that he would sense every night when he buried his nose into her hair, or the crook of her neck as she warmed him. That smell that had invaded his dreams and caused his mind to go haywire. That smell that so... Lucy. She didn't smell like books, she didn't smell like flowers, she didn't smell like fruit. She smelled like Lucy. His Lucy. He wouldn't be forgetting that scent any time soon. He loved that scent. The scent that had he been an enemy, he would let her beat him, just for the sake of being close. Oh, how he missed her scent.

He remembered her taste. A sugary mix of lip-gloss and... something else. A bitter, yet sweet taste that he'd only remembered tasting on her. A taste that would send him into a daze. A taste that would remind him that he wouldn't always be with her. Maybe not all good things come to an end, but he knew that he didn't deserve someone this good. He would eventually have to leave her, or she would leave him. He didn't want to leave her, oh no, but he didn't want to hurt. He knew she would move on, but he wouldn't. But in the moment, he would pull himself back from those dark thoughts and burn the memory of her taste into his brain. Oh, how he missed her taste.

Finally, he remembered her figure. How she seemed to be first carved out of the finest marble, then sculpted with painfully exact movements to create a figure more beautiful than any goddess, more dainty than a butterfly, stronger in heart than any lion. Then, inspired, someone had painted her. Her vibrant colors that were balanced by that neutral, yet captivating brown eyed gaze. That painting had come to life and somehow, someway, decided that he was the one for her. However long he strayed into her chocolate orbs, or however long he kissed her, he would never understand why she had chosen him. Not that he was complaining. Oh, how he missed her image.

He would never forget.

Because he loved her.


End file.
